


Held Together With Only a Little Bit of Love

by tothebatcave53



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Crying, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Death, Platonic Relationships, Slice of Life, Yuuri taking care of Yuri because they're actually best friends, skating family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 00:04:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9689804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tothebatcave53/pseuds/tothebatcave53
Summary: Yuri's grandfather passes away suddenly leaving a painful hole in Yuri's life and in his heart. Yuuri and Victor step up to help their friend but healing from such a devastating loss takes work and understanding.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I felt a pretty big connection to Yuri's relationship with his grandfather and thought about what would happen when he passed away because it's incredibly difficult when you are that close to someone. A lot of heartache, healing and growing as a person have to follow after. At least that's been my experience. So I wanted to let Yuri work through that here, with people that care about him deeply.

The moment that Yuri sets foot on the ice, Yuuri can tell something is wrong. His muscles are tight, his eyes far away, his skin is pale, his eyes red rimmed. He looks like Yuuri did years ago, after Viichan had died and he had found out just before his program was starting. His heart stutters, anxiety creeping up his back. He’d seen Yuri on his phone just a little while ago and he knows, with a deep feeling of dread, that Yuri must have gotten some sort of similar news. Nothing can normally shake the young skater.

He glances over toward Yakov but the coach is standing stoic by the boards, eyes only on Yuri.

The music starts and Yuuri turns back, entranced. While he had crumbled under the despair, the news Yuri received is only spurring him on. His skating is sharp, flawless. The music follows him, instead of the other way around. Each jump is high, full of speed. He lands like his body weighs nothing at all, like each time he lands isn’t the force of his body several times multiplied.

“He’s never been so detached before,” Victor mumbles at Yuuri’s side but he can’t answer.

Yuri’s free skate drags on as Yuuri watches; though Yuri’s body doesn’t fail he can almost feel the shattering of the others mind right up until the end. Yuri gives a small bow, skating slowly off the ice.

Yuuri and Victor keep their distance while the scores are put up, while the photographers gather. Once they’re back stage, away from prying eyes, Victor comes forward.

“What’s going on Yura?” he asks, looking toward Yakov.

“None of your business Victor.” Yuri’s voice is hard, strained like he’s holding back a dam of emotions.

“Nonesense, we’re your family. Let us help whatever it is Yuri.”

“No.”

Victor looks annoyed. “You don’t have to be so stubborn, honestly. Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness.”

“You’d know all about that wouldn’t you.” Yuri glares at them, his eyes burning.

Victor bristles at the insult that was directed at Yuuri, just like Yuri wanted him to. Yuuri can see right through this thinly disguised ploy. “You leave Yuuri out of this…”

“Enough Victor,” Yakov barks. “Yuri’s grandfather passed away.”

The air is sucked out of the hall, all eyes on Yuri.

“Oh Yuratchak, I’m so sorry,” Victor says, starting toward the young Russian skater with his arms open to hug.

“Screw you,” Yuri hisses, hackles raising as he pushes past Victor. “Screw this. I’m going to go change clothes.”

Yuuri turns, quiet, watching Yuri storm off the the locker room. He ignores Victor as Yakov and his fiance start to argue in Russian. The door to the lockers slam as Yuuri comes inside, looking around toward the noise. He finds Yuri sitting on the bench, skate costume half off like he had simply lost the ability to change midway through the action. He startles when he notices Yuuri, defenses going back up immediately.

“What do you want pig?”

Yuri doesn’t mean anything he says, not when he gets like this. His only defense to any emotion he feels is anger, rage, anything to keep people away and keep himself safe.

“Stop looking at me like that katsudon!” Yuri snarls, standing. “Don’t you have someone else to go and bother?” Yuuri doesn’t answer him, just stands and lets Yuri wear himself out. “Stop looking at me like that! So what, he’s dead? He was old. I don’t care.” Tears are starting to fill at the corner of Yuri’s eyes, his green eyes wild as he loses control of himself. “Leave me alone!”

He’s afraid, Yuuri realizes as he catches Yuri in his arms when the other starts to crumble. That maybe Yuuri will take his revenge for when Yuri had cornered him after the grand prix final years ago  when he had been at his lowest, screaming at him to retire.

“Say something damn you!”

“I’m sorry, it’s okay to cry,” Yuuri whispers, his arms wrapping Yuri up tight against his chest. For a heartbeat it’s quiet but then Yuri lets go and he’s sobbing, clinging to Yuuri like he’s the only thing keeping him from spiraling into nothingness.

Yuuri knows the feeling all too well. He hadn’t had anyone to hold him up then, to give him a shoulder to cry against and it had almost cost him his happiness and his career. Slowly he lets them sink down to the locker room floor, leaning against the lockers for support. Yuuri’s hand strokes through soft blond hair while he hums a soft japanese lullaby. It mostly goes unheard under Yuri’s sobs, tears, snot and saliva mixing against his skate jacket but it doesn’t matter.Yuri cries and cries until he’s worn himself down into exhaustion. Then they just sit while Yuuri hums and strokes Yuri’s hair.

He’s sure that Victor and Yakov are wondering about them but it doesn’t matter. Maybe they saw him slip away, he doesn’t care. He’ll stay on the floor, legs cramping and cold as long as it takes until Yuri feels like he can get up again.

“He had a heart attack,” Yuri suddenly whispers. His voice is rough so Yuuri leans forward some and snags the younger Yuri’s water bottle from his skate bag, dragging it back with his pinky finger. He pushes it against the other’s lips, holding it there until Yuri has drained most of the bottle. When Yuri settles back in against Yuri’s chest it’s so his ear is pressed against Yuuri’s heart. “They said he didn’t suffer.”

“That’s good.” Yuuri moves his fingers down to rub at Yuri’s neck, relaxing the muscles there.

Yuri’s lip trembles and he closes his eyes tight to try and stop the new stream of tears. “I know it is…”

“But it doesn’t make it easier,” Yuuri agrees. His own heart clenches painfully for Yuri. They settle back into silence, Yuri curled against Yuuri’s chest for what feels like forever but couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes. Yuri startled when he heard the locker room door creak open and he bolted from Yuuri’s lap, disappearing into the bathroom stall to finish changing into his regular clothes.

Victor appears from around the lockers, looking down at Yuuri with a softness in his blue eyes. “Thank you,” he says, offering Yuuri a hand up.

“Shh. He’ll hear. Lets just go home.”

Victor nods and they wait until Yuri emerges and grabs his skate bag before they head out of the locker room and into a waiting taxi that Yakov has called.

***

The funeral is a small event, since Yuri’s grandfather was his only living relative left. Yuri doesn’t say much but when Yuuri slips two fingers against Yuri’s hand in a brush of quiet comfort Yuri takes them and doesn’t let go through the rest of the church service.

***

“I’m not living with anyone!” Yuri snarls. His entire body is rigid and the young skater is oozing hatred from every pour. Currently his gaze is directed at Victor, who had been the one to bring up the issue.

“You can’t stay with Lilia and Yakov forever.”

Yuri glares harder, Yuuri thinks he might be trying to vaporize Victor in the spot that he stands. He wisely stands to the side, observing the fight that is slowly reaching explosive levels.

“You aren’t living on your own either Yura. You’re only seventeen. You haven’t finished high school, you have college to start thinking about and competition season. You can’t afford to pay for an apartment on top of everything else you already do. You don’t have the time.”

“I’m practically an adult, you didn’t finish high school Victor!” Yuri screeches, wrenching away when Victor reaches out for him. “I don’t need you or Yakov to be telling me what to do.”

“Yuuri,” Victor pleads, turning to face his fiance. His gaze holds a silent plea. Yuri also turns to face him, already snarling.

“Yuri,” Yuuri says softly and watches Yuri’s jaw snap closed. “Do you _want_ to come live with us? It’ll be cramped, and we’ll probably be in each other’s personal space constantly. Four is a crowd since we also have Makkachin who is also getting on in her years and you’ll be bringing you cat with you, plus all of our skate gear…” Yuuri lists and Victor actually looks annoyed at the uncompelling argument that Yuuri is giving. He has Yuri’s attention though, those green eyes locked with his. “But if you want to come live with us Yuri, you are welcome with Victor and I. We want you there.” _I want you there_ , he silently adds.

Yuri’s gaze drops and he bites his lip, his cheeks a light pink. “Fine.”

Victor turns to look at him, surprise written all over his face. “Really?”

“Shut up Victor,” Yuri hisses, turning to stomp away. “I’ll go pack my bags.”

Yuuri smiles slightly, leaning into Victor’s fingers when they brush against his cheek.

“How did you do that? It sounded like you were only listing the negatives.”

“He doesn’t want to be coddled, he knows it’s going to be a burden and a struggle for all of us to adjust. We can’t pretend it’s always going to work out Victor. It is going to be hard, on him and on us. He’s almost an adult, he deserves honesty and the choice to decide his future,” Yuuri says.

“Wise beyond your years my Yuuri,” Victor breaths and leans to kiss his fiance lightly. “Is this what you want?”

Yuuri nods. “More than anything.” He hears Yuri slam the front door and smiles slightly to himself.

***

The apartment feels cramped with three men, an old dog and a fluffy cat all crammed inside but Yuuri likes it, it feels like a home now. Victor wakes up early to take Makkachin out and by the time he’s returned Yuuri has gotten himself up and made them all breakfast. For the first few weeks they let Yuri keep his own schedule but when that schedule keeps him from attending meals, Yuuri puts his foot down. The fight is explosive until Yuri actually sits down to have one of Yuuri’s meals. He starts showing up for breakfast and dinner after that. If Yuuri feels a small spark of pride he never says anything.

They all go to the rink together to practice during the day. The season is starting up again. Victor choreographs their routines but it’s clear that Yuri is struggling to get back into the sport with the fiery passion that is accustomed to his personality. Yuuri knew how it felt, to have to come back after your passion was tainted by such a painful memory.

“Yuri.”

Yuuri skates up besides his young rival, taking a sip of his own water bottle to delay the conversation he’s already rehearsed in his head hundreds of times. Testing a conversation on Victor always goes much smoother than it does with Yuri, which hardly eases his anxiety. “You’re going to have to make this season count.”

“Screw you katsudon I don’t need your pep talks to improve my skating.” Yuri gives him the side eye instead of storming away, chewing on the tip of his water bottle. “Why?” he finally snaps, curiosity doing its job.

“This is going to be mine and Victor’s last season. We’re retiring, officially.”

Yuuri hisses as he’s shoved, falling to his butt with the unexpected force of the push.

“Yura!” Victor snarls, skating toward the pair.

“What do you mean you’re retiring?!” Yuri snarls right back, glaring between the two of them. “What the hell are you even saying?”

Victor leans down, his hands brushing down along Yuuri’s arms to make sure that he isn’t hurt.

“Victor wants to bow out on a high note, I’ve gone as far as I can go,” Yuuri says, his gaze is hard. They’ve drawn the attention of their rink mates but he can’t be bothered to care about the scene they’re making.

“Bull shit. Just… fuck you!” Yuri screams, throwing his water bottle at Yuuri’s feet as he storms off.

“That didn’t go as well as I’d hoped,” Victor mumbles, carefully helping Yuuri up off the ice. His ass is sore from taking all of his weight at once but Yuuri’s used to the bite of the ice.

“It went about as well as I figured it would go.”

Victor watches Yuri disappear from the rink into the locker room which he will undoubtedly storm out from as well. Hopefully his destination is the apartment but it could be anyone's guess where an angry Yuri Plisetsky might disappear to. “Should I go after him?”

“Just give him time to cool off.” Yuuri picks up the discarded bottle. “You keep practicing, I’m going to call it a day coach.”

Victor smiles at the nickname and leans in to kiss Yuuri gently on the forehead. “I’ll see you at home at least right?”

Yuuri nods.

Arriving at home he finds Yuri’s skate bag dumped in front of the door and he almost falls for a second time that day. He nudges it out of the way with his foot, ignoring his desire to scold the younger man on where his skate gear belongs. Yuri’s door is shut, most likely slammed hard enough to rock the foundation of their home even if no one was around to hear it happen.

Victor has practice till late in the evening so it’s just Yuuri and Yuri in the quiet house for the better part of the day. Yuuri makes food and leaves some for Yuri in the fridge, he cleans up, he walks Makkachin and finally he settles in his and Victor’s bed to read.

At some point he wakes from a light doze, startled awake from a dip in the mattress. It’s dark out, the light in the room off though he had most definitely left it on when he’d fallen asleep. “You wanna talk about it?” Yuuri offers the shadow at the end of the bed.

There’s a soft sniff, a stiff nod. Yuri hasn’t cried since that day after his free skate, when Yuuri had held him in the locker room. Careful not to startle the other away, Yuuri opens his arms. “It’s okay,” he repeats and finds Yuri pressed to his chest, sobbing softly. His hands pet blond hair, which is getting long again, like Victor’s used to be. They stay that way for a while until Yuri calms enough that he can get his breathing under control again.

“Why?” he demands. “Why quit?”

Yuuri hums, his fingers stilling. “It’s just time Yuri. I’ve dedicated almost my whole twentysix years to the sport, Victor even more. There are other things we want to do, even if that means giving up skating competitively. I’ve proven to myself that I was worth it, back when Victor came to train me I didn’t think so. I’ve come far since then. And,” Yuuri adds as an afterthought. “It’s time to make way for new skaters.”

“But you’re still… decent,” Yuri grumbles and Yuuri snorts at the twisted compliment he’s just been paid.

“And also starting to feel my falls more and more. I don’t bounce back like you.”

Yuri winces. “I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

Yuuri hears the silent _I’m sorry_ and pats Yuri’s back gently in acknowledgment. “Just because we’re retiring doesn’t mean we’re leaving you. Victor would like to coach you.”

“And what about Yakov?”

“I think he’s ready to quit too. Or maybe that’s just me and Victor he’s ready to quit, he does say quite often that we’re going to put him in an early grave.” Idly Yuuri starts to braid Yuri’s hair together. “At least think about it some. I want our last season together as competitors to mean something. I miss seeing that fire burn through you when you skate.”

Yuri groans, pressing his chin to Yuuri’s chest. “It… hurts…” he admitted in a whisper.

“I know it does.” Yuuri rubs at Yuri’s back lightly, wanting to ease the tension there. It works on the surface. Yuri will have to ease the own tension in his mind and soul.

They lay there, in the dark until Yuri dozes off. That’s how Victor finds them and he smiles at the sight. After a quick shower and some leftovers that Yuuri had left him in the fridge he crawls in on the other side of the bed. Yuri doesn’t stir which speaks volumes of his true level of exhaustion.

“Think he’ll be okay?” Victor asks, lacing his fingers with Yuuri’s in the quiet intimacy of the room.

“Yeah, we’ll be okay,” Yuuri says.

***

The fire returns to Yuri’s skating, driven to finish ahead of his two competitors. If Yakov gives Yuuri some small smiles and a few appreciative nods now and again neither of them bother to mention it.

By the time the Grand Prix Final rolls around again all three have swept their qualifying rounds.

“Maybe when you retire I’ll actually have a shot at gold,” Chris complains in good nature while they’re having dinner together.

“As if,” Yuri growls and Yuuri silently has to agree.

They take first, second and third, sweeping the competition away by huge point differences. Yuri takes the gold and Yuuri couldn’t be more proud of him watching him stand on top of that podium, Yuuri with silver on his left and Victor with bronze on his right. They both gave it their all, which makes having Yuri stand as the top skater all the more sweet. If there are tears in Yuri’s green eyes as they take a selfie together, neither Yuuri or Victor mention it.

The hashtag _skatingfamily_ is trending by the end of that night.

***

“I got a job offer overseas,” Yuuri says at dinner one night. He’s been pushing his katsudon around with his chopsticks since the meal started. “I can attend graduate school there to get my masters and teach the Japanese language class at the same time.”

  
“Yuuri that’s wonderful!” Victor cries.

The smile that is forming on Yuuri’s lips is interrupted with the slam of a fist on the table. Yuri’s water glass wiggles and falls to its side, water splashing over everything and onto the floor.

“Yuri!” Victor gasps.

“I”m not moving!” Yuri screeches, face red with fury. “What the hell are you even thinking? My rink is here! My future is here!”

“I just wanted to talk about the idea of it, I didn’t say I was going to take the job.”

“Of course you’re going to take the job!” Victor gasps, dropping the rag he was using to sop up the spill. “This is a great opportunity for you Yuuri. We can find a new rink Yura,” Victor tries.

The bowl of katsudon goes flying to the ground with a sweep of Yuri’s arm. “I am not moving!” he screams.

Victor snarls. “Yuri grow up! You’re too old to be throwing such a tantrum! You’re an adult now, act like it!”

  
“If I’m an adult than you can leave me here and move to your precious school and teach at it. I am not going Victor.”

“I’m your god damn coach Yuri, you can find a new rink! What are you going to do without a coach?” Victor snaps right back. His hands are flailing wildly, looking more and more crazed like Yuri by the second.

“I don’t need you to skate old man! I already beat your world record and kicked you down on the podium.”

Victor growls.

“Victor,” Yuuri says, grabbing his fiance’s arm. “Enough. I hadn’t made a choice yet. I wanted to discuss it. If our place is here in Russia, that’s where I’ll stay.”

“I won’t let you give up your future just because Yuri has to be a spoiled brat and get his way. You don’t have anything here for you anyway Yuri. You don’t have family or friends.”

“Victor!” Yuuri cries, leaping up, his hold on Victor’s arm turning hard. “Knock it off right now.”

  
“No he’s right,” Yuri snarls, glaring right at Yuuri. “I don’t have either of those things here. Just leave already, it’ll be quieter when you’re gone!” He storms off, slamming the door to his bedroom.

“Why would you say that to him!?” Yuri demands, furious.

Victor crosses his arms, scowling. “Because he doesn’t. His only tie is to the rink, with Yakov retired and me training him he should be able to move wherever we go.”

“He’s friends with the people at the rink, his grandpa’s buried here. This is his home!” Yuuri is seething, madder at Victor than he’s ever been before.

“We’re his home. He can’t just keep acting like life will always go his way.”

“Neither can you.”

Victor glares at him and Yuuri glares right back.

They separate, snarling at each other every time they come into the same room. The fight lasts for three days before they finally work it out in hushed tones behind closed doors. They stay in St. Petersburg, Yuuri doesn’t take the job. Life goes back to normal.

The next time a job comes up it’s in his old home of Detroit, not even very far from his old rink, and Yuuri hasn’t wanted anything this badly in a long time. He doesn’t say anything, the papers sit on his desk for days. When Victor sees them they argue. Victor sleeps on the couch again, they don’t speak to each other for days lest it turn into a screaming match. At one point Victor takes his ring off and walks out. Yuuri sobs for hours.

When he comes back things are calmer, they apologize and Victor replaces his ring where it belongs on his finger. They don’t talk about it with each other again.

“Yura if you could just consider the idea of moving,” Victor mumbles from his spot in the doorway. He idly plays with his ring, twisting it nervously back and forth on his finger. “Yuuri really wants this job, it’s nice and close to the rink so you won’t have to walk more than a couple minute.”

Yuri pulls the hood on his head down further, sullen and silent.

Victor leaves the room with a disheartened sigh. He goes to the rink to skate.

“Katsudon,” Yuri mumbles, leaning into the other man’s room. “Could I… come in?” He shifts in the quiet of the house, looking embarrassed.

“Sure.” Yuuri sits up. His skin is pale, dark bags have formed under his eyes. The stress and anxiety from the fighting have left him quiet, unapproachable.

Yuri leans against the doorframe, fridgets, moves to sit on the end of the bed.

Yuuri watches him for a few minutes, the silence heavy with awkward tension. “You can come sit next to me if you want,” he finally says. A few seconds tick away before Yuri scoots up the bed, sitting next to Yuuri.

“We don’t have to go. I won’t take this job either,” Yuuri finally says, breaking the ice. It doesn’t matter that he wants this job more than anything he’s wanted since retiring. “If you want to stay here to skate that’s what we’ll do.”

“Why?” Yuri mumbles, hugging his knees to his chest. He rests his head on them, hair falling into his face. “You’re obviously miserable here.”

“I’m not miserable living in St. Petersburg. This is our home, I love being here with you and Victor. I love helping you train and watching you compete.”

“Then why do you want to leave it?”

Yuuri sighs, running fingers through his dark hair. “I don’t want to leave but I want this job. I’m not doing anything here. Victor takes care of us, he goes out to the rink to coach you. I want to do something, whatever that next chapter of my life is supposed to be.”

Yuri hugs his knees tighter. “So leave me here.”

“Never.”

Yuri looks up at the intensity of Yuuri’s answer, face flushing a deep red. “Why? I’m holding you back.”

  
“Because I love you Yura, I couldn’t ask you to give up everything here if you really hated it that much.” Yuuri shrugs. “We’re a family, we stay together.”

  
The silence settles back around them, more comfortable this time. Yuri scoots in closer until he can rest his head on Yuuri’s shoulder comfortably. “When do they need to know by?” he mumbles.

“I said I would let them know by the end of the month.”

“And where would I skate?”

“My old rink is really close.” Yuuri carefully wraps one arm around Yuri’s shoulder, relaxing himself when the younger man melt into his hold.

“I’m sorry.”

Yuuri hums softly as his only acknowledgement, more than willing to just brush off the anger that had been between them over the last few weeks.

“I should have just talked to you about it instead of acting like a kid. You and Victor…” Yuri bit his lip, hiding his face behind his sweatshirt again. “Are you guys okay?”

Yuuri winces, the ache of their explosive fight still fresh in his mind. “We’re both incredibly stubborn when we have our minds set to something, you know that.”

“I shouldn’t have put that stress there. If you didn’t have to think about me you wouldn’t have had the fight at all.”

“Well we do have you and I’m happy that we do, so don’t worry about it.” Yuuri pulled at Yuri’s hood, making it fall back so he was forced to look at the older Japanese man. “Whatever we do, even if we’re fighting, I’m never going to regret you being here okay? Nothing makes me happier than being here for you and watching you grow as a skater. You’re like our son okay? Absolutely nothing is more important than that to me.”

  
Yuri’s face flushes a blazing scarlet red. “Shut up katsudon, you sound just like Victor!” he accuses, pushing at Yuuri’s face. “God does every single person that gets old become some sentimental sap? Kill me now.”

Yuuri laughs and tugs Yuri against his chest to hug him. “Trust me I can be so much worse than Victor,” he teases.

Yuri struggles for a moment, putting up a fake fight before Yuuri feels him still. Slowly arms come up his back until Yuri is hugging him just as tightly. “Thanks, okay?” he whispers. “For...everything. I never really said it before.” Yuuri hears a silent _and I probably won’t again_ but doesn’t mind. Yuri has a lot of pride, admitting anything so largely sentimental leaves him too open to something that could possibly hurt him.

“Your welcome,” Yuuri says quietly and lets the subject drop. Two days later he accepts the teaching job in Detroit.

***

It’s a surprisingly easy transition for the two Russians. Thankfully Yuuri knows the area and some of the people still in it from when he trained. They get Yuri set up at the rink first, making sure that the younger is comfortable in his new skating environment. The other skaters that use the rink seem intimidated at first but despite Yuri’s outward appearance he does make friends easily and soon he’s jabbering about how horrible the move had been and how annoying Victor had acted the entire time. If he’s self conscious about his skating in front of all the new people he doesn’t let it show as he does a round of quad jumps.

They enroll Yuri at the university at the end of competition season so he can start working on furthering his education. He whines and complains the entire time. As revenge he ends up taking the Japanese class that Yuuri is teaching, making sure to raise hell in every class. Yuuri isn’t sure if his students learn more Japanese or more Russian during that semester with how much him and Yuri bicker back and forth. When Victor shows up the entire semester is a lost cause.

“Seflie,” Yuri demands at the little coffee shop near their house. He pulls Yuuri in close, Victor leaning over their shoulders. None of them can stop smiling. Occasionally they’ll get stopped by fans, Yuri’s Angel’s have spread into the states like wildfire but people, for the most part, let them live in peace.

They feel more like a family with each passing day. Occasionally they’ll fight, no one is perfect but it works itself out with time. Yuri flourishes in school, in skating. Yuuri and Victor are the attentive, proud and ever doting parents.

“You’re as social media driven as Phichit,” Victor says as Yuri snaps another photo of himself and Yuuri.

“You’re just jealous because I have more followers than you now.”

Somehow, they made it work. Yuuri watches Victor and Yuri bicker over their instagram selfies, which filter is better and who gets to use the one with Yuuri in it since photos of him are rare. Yuuri wonders how he got so lucky, to live with the two people he loves most in the whole world.

In the end they’re happy and that’s all that really matters to Yuuri anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this. Hopefully you enjoyed reading it. :)  
> Feedback is always welcomed! My tumblr is [here](http://tothebatcave53.tumblr.com/) if you want to come talk about Yoi because it is pretty much all I think about right now.


End file.
